Weeping Widow (Complete)
by Eurydice II of Macedon
Summary: When she was a girl, she had a fear of spiders, having been told they felt no emotion. That their hearts never beat. But, later, she realized the truth: at the moment of the kill... they are never more alive. Or, so, she thought...


**Somewhere in the Himalayas, near Nepal.**

Widowmaker held her finger close to the trigger, scanning the length of the landing platform where her target was due to arrive any moment. The radio tower she had positioned herself atop swayed in the wind. It sat on the side of a mountain, overlooking an old, once hidden base used by the members of Overwatch, now a conclave for the one of the many omnic peace coalitions; the largest one thus far, after the death of Tekhartha Mondatta. A kill she had been most satisfied with, despite the interruption from that nat.

In fact, that nat had been the sole reason behind how much satisfaction she had taken from what otherwise would have been an easier kill. The disparity on her face as she realized it. That which she tried so desperately to protect, she had let die to save her own tiny, insignificant life. All... in a blink.

That day, she had felt alive.

And, now, after the embarrassing setbacks in Africa and Russia, was her chance to redeem herself; to feel alive again.

Her primary target was the new Tekhartha: Tekhartha Zenyatta. Another peace-advocating leader of the omnics who had quickly rose to fill the gap left by his predecessor. Today, he was attending what was supposed to be a secret delegation with representatives from the world powers idiotic enough to stand against Talon for a 'brighter future'. These representatives were secondary targets, approximately nine in total, and with the new Tekhartha, she wouldn't even have to reload.

One shot, one kill. That was her creed. Her words to live, and, if the day ever came, to die by—not that it ever would.

She smirked at the thought of it, spotting a cruiser approach the landing pad from over the mountaintop, partially obscured by the setting sun behind. Feeling a burning sensation in her breast the likes of which she could only ascribe as being her heart as it beat, she slide down her visor and counted the warm bodies inside the cruiser.

Her total was six, three on either side. They appeared to be standing in formation behind someone—or something—else.

 _Ba-dump._ "There you are," she said underneath her breath, icier than the cold that pricked her skin. Cold that she could only feel now that her heart was in rhythm with her desire. That one, single, fleeting desire, to feel alive again.

And, as the cruiser touched down, its occupants stepping out, unaware of the trap they had wandered into, caught in her web, her primary target within her sights, it was time for her to feast. Easing back on the trigger, it was such a simple thing, to simply end it here and now, but, for some… odd… reason… there was no spark to ignite. She found herself hesitating, rifle lowering ever so slightly.

Her heart, soon as she had laid her rifle's crosshairs on the head of the omnic, grew still. There was no thrill, in a kill such as this. Not anymore, not after—though she loathed to admit—that day. Without an obstacle in her way, a real challenge to test herself against, she couldn't bring herself to do it. One shot, one kill. That was her creed, and, yet…

Pulling down on the trigger, her bullet ripping through the air to blow a hole through another now deceased Tekhartha and as its guards fell in quick succession, it occurred to her only after she had to reload that she was actually numb—and it wasn't because of the cold. Just then, she saw a human-shaped shadow slink its way across the landing pad, gorging on the dead sprawled across as it passed and reduced what was left to husks. Her comlink buzzed, that man's dark and dreary voice coming through as the shadow disappeared inside the base.

"I can handle things from here. Leave the other targets to me."

"Understood…" she said, bringing her rifle back to stationary position and touching the spot where her heart was. She could no longer feel it because, after all, it wasn't beating. For, at the moment of the kill, she hadn't felt alive.

* * *

 **Rating may change to Mature (M) strong later on.**

 **Title name taken from the song of the same name on April Wine's 1973 album Electric Jewels. Cover art credit belongs to Ry-Spirit on Deviantart as part of #21 days of Overwatch.**


End file.
